UPDATE / HURRICANE HUGO : In Charleston, Life’s Almost Normal Again : But seven months later, the disaster leaves a new legacy: a continuing menace of forest fires.

Seven months later, coastal South Carolina almost looks normal. The tourist season is underway, and Charleston successfully held its annual tour of elegant old homes last week.

For this the region is grateful, because time has moved ever so slowly here since Hurricane Hugo roared ashore last September. It is now clear that the storm, which killed 29 people and caused $6 billion in damage in this state, left a legacy that will last for years.

Most immediately, residents must contemplate the potential for forest fires along the coast. There, downed trees decay where Hugo left them. The forest fire problem in coastal areas north of here “may well be our greatest danger that we still have to face,” Gov. Carroll A. Campbell Jr. told a recent news conference.

Around tiny communities like Mt. Pleasant, Tibwin, Awendaw and McClellanville, about 260 million cubic feet of the felled timber has been recovered, but so much remains that it would be almost impossible for firefighting equipment to move through the woods.

“What we’re looking at in the future are fires that are difficult to control,” said Ken Cabe, fire prevention coordinator for the state forestry commission. “It’ll be with us for three to five years.”

In this city and in the outlying areas as well, rebuilding and repairs are still underway. In some communities, neighbors band together to make repairs and collect debris.

Charleston officials have high hopes for the tourist season. “Unless you’ve been here enough to know which tree was where, you may not notice the destruction,” said Barbara Vaughn, public information coordinator for the city.

Indeed, the city is no longer the prostrated habitat left behind by the 140-m.p.h. winds that roared directly up Charleston harbor. At the same time, troubles remain.

The convention and visitors bureau itself lost a roof during the storm, and now is run out of two trailers. The building will not be ready for occupancy until the end of May.

Homeowners say they still have a hard time getting work done, and even when they do, they run into problems with preservation officials who demand that replacement materials meet difficult standards.

Mary Brown, a retired teacher who is chronically ill, lost a roof off her two-story home near downtown. After months of waiting and hassling with insurance officials and contractors, she recently got a new one but was told it did not conform to preservation rules.

To avoid having to rip off the new roof, Brown said: “I got to do some tough talking and some praying, too.”

As repairs are made, another huge problem is created: trash.

Mounds of it sit in front of some homes here, and it litters the countryside. State officials said enough garbage has been removed after Hugo to fill 620,000 trucks. This, of course, drastically shortens the life of garbage dumps, exacerbating an already serious problem.

Some trash burning has created smoke hazards severe enough to endanger auto traffic, say officials.

In seaside communities along Hugo’s path, many homeowners are rebuilding their damaged beachfront homes, to the chagrin of environmentalists who saw Hugo as a kind of opportunity to stop development that has eroded land and polluted water.

“What kind of idiots would want to rebuild their houses at the same place?” demands Orrin Pilkey, a Duke University coastal geologist who warns against building too close to the sea. “They’re foolhardy in the extreme.”